Dear Wikkid Person,
I'm a Christian and I have trouble some times thinking of what I should allow my mind to think and what are thoughts put there by the enemy. Sometimes it feels like I'm actually trying to reject or pray the blood of Jesus against something that is just a normal thought to have - or a natural instinct. I was wondering how you deal with thoughts. Do you have thoughts that you feel like are from the devil and that you pray against? If so, how do you determine whether or not it's from the devil or whether it's just a thought or a want/desire you have. Perhaps even being a thought God wanted you to have, or gave you - I often fear I'm fearing and resisting thoughts that maybe aren't meant to be.
Thanks for your time,
Uncer Tanty
Dear Uncer Tanty,
'Kay. I used to worry about that quite a bit myself. I don't know exactly when or how or why it changed, but eventually I stopped pretending I could somehow not feel feelings, and not think thoughts. I concluded that I absolutely could NOT control them, not even by trying to dispel them like curses. I could choose not to dwell on them for long periods of time, of course, but ultimately I really had to think the thoughts and feel the feelings. Because that's what they're for. And that's how heads and hearts work.
I do believe that my thoughts come from somewhere far deeper inside than I can keep much watch on. I do believe we have a level of thought and feeling that is subconscious. It lets out hints in dreams, sometimes. The scripture alludes to this, in terms of the spirit of man being what knows a man, and that some dreams being about that. So when thoughts or feelings show up, I think and feel them, and I note them, almost like an audience, seeing what I can learn. I see it as stuff bubbling up to where I can be conscious of it. Dreams and other people work as "mirrors" in this.
Because I'm into self-discovery and growth. Sometimes we get angry, but we kinda don't know it. Often we believe something stupid (e.g. about God) that we'd downright deny believing, but our life clearly shows we do believe it. If this is the case, then I really want to know it. So I pay close attention. I don't fight myself, but I try to know myself. If we try to fight endless battles inside ourselves, we can't live lives. We are paralyzed in a state of perpetual not-living.
One very important part is I stopped trying to save myself (or "act saved"). Because all I have to save myself, and "be Christian" with, is what the bible calls "the flesh." And it's imperfect. It's not enough. It needs God. The flesh is nothing better and nothing worse than a human being trying to be what God intended, using only human discretion and willpower. This goes hand in hand with not being willing to wait on the work of Christ. It's about trying to get into a state which pleases God, for God, but not with the actual help of God. Trying to do it yourself, and not letting Him do it. Surgery on yourself. Even if we successfully cast out demons in the name of God, that's not going to make any difference if we don't let Christ work within us. That's about being realistic about what control we actually have, and what control he actually has. I'm not going to say "giving up control" because that assumes we actually have control which we clearly do not have in any real way.
So I gave all that up. I stopped trying to somehow make my brain and heart "Christian" through the dubious approach of using my own immature, superstitious, fearful, self-indulgent judgment and resolve. I had to learn that my own judgment needed as much work as the thoughts and feelings themselves that I was trying to judge.
I had to learn that the work of Christ works, and that Christ was changing me already, and that I was sometimes perhaps in danger of almost jostling his elbow while he worked. I gradually increasingly realized that what I'd been doing (was raised to unthinkingly do) was trying to imitate how I thought a Christian thought and felt. And I realized Christ died for more than just that pale imitation: he was going to make me the real deal. And it was going to take my whole life long for him to do it up right. And that my own self-control, though impressively Brethren-grade, wasn't really helping. (We are world-class at repression and denial. Too bad those don't help one live.) Now, all those epiphanies helped me start living a life, with my priorities set more realistically.
I paid close attention to the verses about being transformed inside, in the image of Christ, rather than the ridiculous idea of somehow "dressing, talking, living, walking, thinking and feeling like a Christian does." I viewed redemption as a seed inside that was growing, sometimes rather slowly, and not some kind of play I would be performing, with a "part" to play, and a costume, and scripted lines. I stopped speaking routinely in cliches and sayings coined by dead people. I began to have to craft my own thoughts and sentences. It began to be me talking. It began to be me living. And Christ increasingly was able to live in and through me, which he certainly can't do while one isn't really living a genuine life as a genuine person.
I think a key to being a strong, deep, warm, healthy Christian is to know what one really thinks and feels, not running away from it, hiding it, or shutting it away, scared and ashamed to even look at it. That's like not showing the dentist your rotten teeth. So I try to watch my thoughts and feelings in an almost clinical way, watching to see growth happen in areas that God clearly thinks need it. I don't even decide what areas need growth most, next. That's his job. He's not about to let me do it, either. I am, as I go on, very aware that, not only is God watching very closely, but I am welcoming Him to do that, because I know He's not just watching. He's working. I don't need to ask Him to work. He already is. And I can't stop Him.
I agree very strongly with your suggesting that there is a risk of being unnatural. Of tromping on natural thoughts and feelings. And as I said before, I don't think we have control over our thoughts and feelings. I don't even think we're conscious of the majority of them. I think they come from somewhere far deeper and more primal than the top level where we consciously keep our fledgling self-control and fleshly judgment. So we're stuck letting them bubble up to consciousness at the surface before we can even perceive them. And trying to push them back under and drown them really won't work. In fact, they grow larger and more monstrous down there. What they need is sunlight shining on them so they can be clearly seen.
To recap: We need to really be real people living real lives. It needs to be us living. Our own thoughts, and our own feelings. That's the point of God giving us selves and lives to begin with. And we need to lay aside the idea that we can "be Christian" through self-control and judgment alone. We need a change done to us, throughout our lives, inside ourselves, and deeper than anything we can bring about by ourselves.
Unflattering, I know. We'd like to do it ourselves, each day. Get up and get Christian. Do the habits. Avoid the fun stuff. Make it all work. But that's almost like having a pair of five-year old twins and letting them schedule and run their whole week, themselves, trusting them to act like adults. Kids want to be allowed adult freedom, and some parents are continually frustrated that their kids are clearly so far from showing adult responsibility. That's dumb. You (and they) have to wait. Because they aren't adults. Yet. Growth will happen. (note that in this story, "you" represent God, and not you yourself. The five-year old twins represent you. Your heart and your mind, let's say.)
Perhaps a better analogy is that we want to remove our own appendixes when they pain us. Or pretend the problem will go away on its own. We can't do either of these. And no amount of cutting ourselves open or willing our appendix to be okay is going to end well. We need someone outside ourselves, and we do not deal with our own tonsils, ourselves, at all. What we do is go to the doctor and trust him. And wait. And heal. Or wait for the injection or pills or whatever to do their work. Our job is to let that in, not do it ourselves.
Honestly, I don't think our worst enemy is the devil "putting thoughts into our heads." As C.S. Lewis wrote in The Screwtape Letters, the enemy is no doubt more concerned with hoping to keep thoughts out of our heads/from occurring to us at all. Epiphanies are what make us grow, a lot of the time. They don't serve the enemy's ends.
And I don't think that I generally think outright evil stuff so much as stupid, immature, weird, insane stuff. Or stuff that's not good. Yet. Stuff that's gotten twisted on its way to where God aimed it. So, no. I really don't know of scriptural support for the idea of the Enemy being able to put any thoughts at all into my head. I think the bad/stupid/selfish/childish/twisted thoughts are all me. Needing to be made better, smarter, more charitable and straightened out. By Christ. In his own way and time.
So I don't any longer think thoughts and then (also) think "the enemy put that thought there." I think "That's my thought, alright. I just thought that. A bit embarrassing. Doesn't make a lot of sense. Bit weird. Will I think that kind of thing often? Why do I think it? What does thinking it reveal? Does this connect to what I did at work, and what I dreamed afterward?"
I guess, instead, I am in an attitude of prayer (waiting), rather than clumping down my staff vehemently and trying to do "You Shall Not PASS!" to dark, fiery thoughts within myself. Because I'm not magic. And these thoughts are, I think, coming from Deepest Me. And I don't try to do exorcisms on myself, not even with references to the blood of Christ or anything. I let Christ do his own thing. Wield his own blood. In his own name. I trust him to do all of that. I simply acknowledge that he is doing that and wait for it to happen. If he doesn't, I certainly can't do it myself.
Which means I often have to wait. And so I wait to see the growth happen. I know I can't force it. Can't rush it. I know that faking growth is a lie. And I am afraid to lie with my life. There is no sanity down that road. And I don't assume I know what God thinks about everything. Because I don't. It's a good thing it's not my job to know that. And just trying to follow rules or guidelines, stay within boundaries, or imitate a style of living isn't nearly enough to make me into a Christian, nor grow as one either. That's the flesh again. Can the flesh call upon the blood of Christ to try to ward off evil? I believe so. Can the flesh please God or do good by doing that? No.
When it comes to outright actions, I use what judgment and self-control I have, but without any illusion that it's enough, or that my slightest mistake is fatal, or that I don't need to stumble through and fumble through my life, making mistakes and then getting up each time and maybe not making them again. I live. And I need some elbow room to do that. And anyone who assumes I won't be making a mess, or any mistakes, knows little about how life works and should try it sometime. There really is no substitute.
A proviso: This is all very safe for someone who, like me, was raised with zero freedom, nothing but rules and fleshly attempts to please God through abstinences. The real danger in my life isn't that I'm going to get addicted to prostitutes, heroin, embezzlement or online gambling. It's that I'll do nothing much, ever. And not grow or connect to other people. That I'll just dry up and wither away inside. That the spark, the fire, the well of inspiration will be gone. This is not the danger for everyone, I realize. Also, I believe that when we're about to grow, the Enemy may, not put a thought into our head, to masquerade as something we thought ourselves, but may threaten us. May start up a game of Chicken with us. And it's a bluff. If God's working, the Enemy doesn't have a hope of messing that up.
^^That's pretty long. I don't think this is an easy thing to talk about, nor that I've nailed the topic. Glad someone asked, though. Gets right down to brass tacks. Hopefully I've opened the proverbial can of worms so the light can shine into it.
I do think the world is full of people who think salvation is "living a Christian life." Using self-control and judgment (The flesh). Imitating. Outer forms. Not transgressing rules. Feeling like it's up to you to "be Christian" and to essentially redeem yourself and earn God's blessing, grace and mercy each day. Or at least live carefully to avoid losing it. By being a house divided against itself. A whole nothing, with only warring halves. Of course, blessing, grace and mercy do not work anything like that.
I don't know if all that's a problem for you. If it is, I think it's something to worry about alright. But Christ fixes stuff like that. And you can't. You can stop trying so hard to do stupid or impossible things, of course. You can always stop doing that. I know I have. As I have grown and matured. Sometimes it took an embarrassingly long time. And it was Christ who wrought it in me.
Feel your feelings. Think your thoughts. Knowing God is there with you. Knowing He's seen worse. Knowing that light casts out darkness, rather than the opposite way 'round. Don't get all ready and supposedly cleaned up, intending to only then "let God in." Don't wait for God to "show up." Don't repeatedly "meekly, brokenly surrender your all to Him." He has you already. You cannot escape. You have nothing to surrender. You can't invite Him into your day. He's already there. Working. On you. On stuff. Since before there was you. And not all for your benefit. Who knows why He does half the stuff He does? But you can say "Hi." And wave. You might as well. He's there every day.
Hope that starts some thinking,
...that Wikkid Person
I'm a Christian and I have trouble some times thinking of what I should allow my mind to think and what are thoughts put there by the enemy. Sometimes it feels like I'm actually trying to reject or pray the blood of Jesus against something that is just a normal thought to have - or a natural instinct. I was wondering how you deal with thoughts. Do you have thoughts that you feel like are from the devil and that you pray against? If so, how do you determine whether or not it's from the devil or whether it's just a thought or a want/desire you have. Perhaps even being a thought God wanted you to have, or gave you - I often fear I'm fearing and resisting thoughts that maybe aren't meant to be.
Thanks for your time,
Uncer Tanty
Dear Uncer Tanty,
'Kay. I used to worry about that quite a bit myself. I don't know exactly when or how or why it changed, but eventually I stopped pretending I could somehow not feel feelings, and not think thoughts. I concluded that I absolutely could NOT control them, not even by trying to dispel them like curses. I could choose not to dwell on them for long periods of time, of course, but ultimately I really had to think the thoughts and feel the feelings. Because that's what they're for. And that's how heads and hearts work.
I do believe that my thoughts come from somewhere far deeper inside than I can keep much watch on. I do believe we have a level of thought and feeling that is subconscious. It lets out hints in dreams, sometimes. The scripture alludes to this, in terms of the spirit of man being what knows a man, and that some dreams being about that. So when thoughts or feelings show up, I think and feel them, and I note them, almost like an audience, seeing what I can learn. I see it as stuff bubbling up to where I can be conscious of it. Dreams and other people work as "mirrors" in this.
Because I'm into self-discovery and growth. Sometimes we get angry, but we kinda don't know it. Often we believe something stupid (e.g. about God) that we'd downright deny believing, but our life clearly shows we do believe it. If this is the case, then I really want to know it. So I pay close attention. I don't fight myself, but I try to know myself. If we try to fight endless battles inside ourselves, we can't live lives. We are paralyzed in a state of perpetual not-living.
One very important part is I stopped trying to save myself (or "act saved"). Because all I have to save myself, and "be Christian" with, is what the bible calls "the flesh." And it's imperfect. It's not enough. It needs God. The flesh is nothing better and nothing worse than a human being trying to be what God intended, using only human discretion and willpower. This goes hand in hand with not being willing to wait on the work of Christ. It's about trying to get into a state which pleases God, for God, but not with the actual help of God. Trying to do it yourself, and not letting Him do it. Surgery on yourself. Even if we successfully cast out demons in the name of God, that's not going to make any difference if we don't let Christ work within us. That's about being realistic about what control we actually have, and what control he actually has. I'm not going to say "giving up control" because that assumes we actually have control which we clearly do not have in any real way.
So I gave all that up. I stopped trying to somehow make my brain and heart "Christian" through the dubious approach of using my own immature, superstitious, fearful, self-indulgent judgment and resolve. I had to learn that my own judgment needed as much work as the thoughts and feelings themselves that I was trying to judge.
I had to learn that the work of Christ works, and that Christ was changing me already, and that I was sometimes perhaps in danger of almost jostling his elbow while he worked. I gradually increasingly realized that what I'd been doing (was raised to unthinkingly do) was trying to imitate how I thought a Christian thought and felt. And I realized Christ died for more than just that pale imitation: he was going to make me the real deal. And it was going to take my whole life long for him to do it up right. And that my own self-control, though impressively Brethren-grade, wasn't really helping. (We are world-class at repression and denial. Too bad those don't help one live.) Now, all those epiphanies helped me start living a life, with my priorities set more realistically.
I paid close attention to the verses about being transformed inside, in the image of Christ, rather than the ridiculous idea of somehow "dressing, talking, living, walking, thinking and feeling like a Christian does." I viewed redemption as a seed inside that was growing, sometimes rather slowly, and not some kind of play I would be performing, with a "part" to play, and a costume, and scripted lines. I stopped speaking routinely in cliches and sayings coined by dead people. I began to have to craft my own thoughts and sentences. It began to be me talking. It began to be me living. And Christ increasingly was able to live in and through me, which he certainly can't do while one isn't really living a genuine life as a genuine person.
I think a key to being a strong, deep, warm, healthy Christian is to know what one really thinks and feels, not running away from it, hiding it, or shutting it away, scared and ashamed to even look at it. That's like not showing the dentist your rotten teeth. So I try to watch my thoughts and feelings in an almost clinical way, watching to see growth happen in areas that God clearly thinks need it. I don't even decide what areas need growth most, next. That's his job. He's not about to let me do it, either. I am, as I go on, very aware that, not only is God watching very closely, but I am welcoming Him to do that, because I know He's not just watching. He's working. I don't need to ask Him to work. He already is. And I can't stop Him.
I agree very strongly with your suggesting that there is a risk of being unnatural. Of tromping on natural thoughts and feelings. And as I said before, I don't think we have control over our thoughts and feelings. I don't even think we're conscious of the majority of them. I think they come from somewhere far deeper and more primal than the top level where we consciously keep our fledgling self-control and fleshly judgment. So we're stuck letting them bubble up to consciousness at the surface before we can even perceive them. And trying to push them back under and drown them really won't work. In fact, they grow larger and more monstrous down there. What they need is sunlight shining on them so they can be clearly seen.
To recap: We need to really be real people living real lives. It needs to be us living. Our own thoughts, and our own feelings. That's the point of God giving us selves and lives to begin with. And we need to lay aside the idea that we can "be Christian" through self-control and judgment alone. We need a change done to us, throughout our lives, inside ourselves, and deeper than anything we can bring about by ourselves.
Unflattering, I know. We'd like to do it ourselves, each day. Get up and get Christian. Do the habits. Avoid the fun stuff. Make it all work. But that's almost like having a pair of five-year old twins and letting them schedule and run their whole week, themselves, trusting them to act like adults. Kids want to be allowed adult freedom, and some parents are continually frustrated that their kids are clearly so far from showing adult responsibility. That's dumb. You (and they) have to wait. Because they aren't adults. Yet. Growth will happen. (note that in this story, "you" represent God, and not you yourself. The five-year old twins represent you. Your heart and your mind, let's say.)
Perhaps a better analogy is that we want to remove our own appendixes when they pain us. Or pretend the problem will go away on its own. We can't do either of these. And no amount of cutting ourselves open or willing our appendix to be okay is going to end well. We need someone outside ourselves, and we do not deal with our own tonsils, ourselves, at all. What we do is go to the doctor and trust him. And wait. And heal. Or wait for the injection or pills or whatever to do their work. Our job is to let that in, not do it ourselves.
Honestly, I don't think our worst enemy is the devil "putting thoughts into our heads." As C.S. Lewis wrote in The Screwtape Letters, the enemy is no doubt more concerned with hoping to keep thoughts out of our heads/from occurring to us at all. Epiphanies are what make us grow, a lot of the time. They don't serve the enemy's ends.
And I don't think that I generally think outright evil stuff so much as stupid, immature, weird, insane stuff. Or stuff that's not good. Yet. Stuff that's gotten twisted on its way to where God aimed it. So, no. I really don't know of scriptural support for the idea of the Enemy being able to put any thoughts at all into my head. I think the bad/stupid/selfish/childish/twisted thoughts are all me. Needing to be made better, smarter, more charitable and straightened out. By Christ. In his own way and time.
So I don't any longer think thoughts and then (also) think "the enemy put that thought there." I think "That's my thought, alright. I just thought that. A bit embarrassing. Doesn't make a lot of sense. Bit weird. Will I think that kind of thing often? Why do I think it? What does thinking it reveal? Does this connect to what I did at work, and what I dreamed afterward?"
I guess, instead, I am in an attitude of prayer (waiting), rather than clumping down my staff vehemently and trying to do "You Shall Not PASS!" to dark, fiery thoughts within myself. Because I'm not magic. And these thoughts are, I think, coming from Deepest Me. And I don't try to do exorcisms on myself, not even with references to the blood of Christ or anything. I let Christ do his own thing. Wield his own blood. In his own name. I trust him to do all of that. I simply acknowledge that he is doing that and wait for it to happen. If he doesn't, I certainly can't do it myself.
Which means I often have to wait. And so I wait to see the growth happen. I know I can't force it. Can't rush it. I know that faking growth is a lie. And I am afraid to lie with my life. There is no sanity down that road. And I don't assume I know what God thinks about everything. Because I don't. It's a good thing it's not my job to know that. And just trying to follow rules or guidelines, stay within boundaries, or imitate a style of living isn't nearly enough to make me into a Christian, nor grow as one either. That's the flesh again. Can the flesh call upon the blood of Christ to try to ward off evil? I believe so. Can the flesh please God or do good by doing that? No.
When it comes to outright actions, I use what judgment and self-control I have, but without any illusion that it's enough, or that my slightest mistake is fatal, or that I don't need to stumble through and fumble through my life, making mistakes and then getting up each time and maybe not making them again. I live. And I need some elbow room to do that. And anyone who assumes I won't be making a mess, or any mistakes, knows little about how life works and should try it sometime. There really is no substitute.
A proviso: This is all very safe for someone who, like me, was raised with zero freedom, nothing but rules and fleshly attempts to please God through abstinences. The real danger in my life isn't that I'm going to get addicted to prostitutes, heroin, embezzlement or online gambling. It's that I'll do nothing much, ever. And not grow or connect to other people. That I'll just dry up and wither away inside. That the spark, the fire, the well of inspiration will be gone. This is not the danger for everyone, I realize. Also, I believe that when we're about to grow, the Enemy may, not put a thought into our head, to masquerade as something we thought ourselves, but may threaten us. May start up a game of Chicken with us. And it's a bluff. If God's working, the Enemy doesn't have a hope of messing that up.
^^That's pretty long. I don't think this is an easy thing to talk about, nor that I've nailed the topic. Glad someone asked, though. Gets right down to brass tacks. Hopefully I've opened the proverbial can of worms so the light can shine into it.
I do think the world is full of people who think salvation is "living a Christian life." Using self-control and judgment (The flesh). Imitating. Outer forms. Not transgressing rules. Feeling like it's up to you to "be Christian" and to essentially redeem yourself and earn God's blessing, grace and mercy each day. Or at least live carefully to avoid losing it. By being a house divided against itself. A whole nothing, with only warring halves. Of course, blessing, grace and mercy do not work anything like that.
I don't know if all that's a problem for you. If it is, I think it's something to worry about alright. But Christ fixes stuff like that. And you can't. You can stop trying so hard to do stupid or impossible things, of course. You can always stop doing that. I know I have. As I have grown and matured. Sometimes it took an embarrassingly long time. And it was Christ who wrought it in me.
Feel your feelings. Think your thoughts. Knowing God is there with you. Knowing He's seen worse. Knowing that light casts out darkness, rather than the opposite way 'round. Don't get all ready and supposedly cleaned up, intending to only then "let God in." Don't wait for God to "show up." Don't repeatedly "meekly, brokenly surrender your all to Him." He has you already. You cannot escape. You have nothing to surrender. You can't invite Him into your day. He's already there. Working. On you. On stuff. Since before there was you. And not all for your benefit. Who knows why He does half the stuff He does? But you can say "Hi." And wave. You might as well. He's there every day.
Hope that starts some thinking,
...that Wikkid Person
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